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David N Juboor Apr 2016
If I were a teacher,

I'd teach plagiarism
Like a patent office.
I'd teach publication
Like plagiarism,
And I'll proofread
Any paper that properly
Cites their sources.

I'd teach every
Kid from age X to Y
That if I can't
Lift them as
High as they
Want to go
Than somebody
Else
Can.

I would be the man,
That teaches subjects
Like I'm their King,
And I'd spread
Knowledge to every
Acre of my empire
I'd teach anything.

See,
I'd teach chemistry
By making the reaction of
Why and How
Always synthesize
Wow.

I'd be a catalyst
For positive change
By keeping every
School-yard bully
and kid that's always picked last
Around after class
To teach them physics,

Like if you have mass
And you take up space
Then you ******* matter.

I'd put the cool
in Coulombs.
I'd be so electrostatic
About magnetic fields
You could feel my fluxin'
Energy in the hallway.

I'd say
His story,
And Her story,
And everyone in-between's story,
Is about the day their parents met.

I'd teach ***-ed
Like it's about the
Day their parents met.
And it wouldn't be weird
It'd be beautiful.
Because anybody falling
In love is beautiful.

And speaking of beautiful:

Mathemagics,
Would no longer
Be a bottomless hat
But a bird.
With feathers and wings
And things that always
Find their way home.

I'd transform
The Fourier of
Our foundations
With equations
Of equality
Like you,
And I are
Always equal to
Us.

It'll be cake
To be genius.
....Or pie
Or whatever else is rational
In this situation.

And I
Would measure intelligence
With the answer to the question
Of why we are alive.

I'd standardize
Every test
By removing
Any box that
Takes us
Further apart

I would make art
Combining every
Color from East to West
In a masterpiece
That every child can draw
We'll call it "human"

I would solve
World hunger
And war,
And every other problem
That stems from greed
With answers to the
Questions that I still
Don't know

But I would show
Everyone whose ever
Made you hurt
That a broken heart
Has still got the
Courage to beat

Because it's their words
Where the heart breathes
Where the heart bleeds
Where the heart sleeps

And it's our dreams
That keep us awake
In the wake of our past

So I'd put every love letter
And box of their ****
On a bonfire, light a match,
And we would watch it burn.

Hell,
If I were a teacher
I'd say there's
So much left
That I've still got
To learn.
anonymous Feb 2015
I'm not an electrician but I do know this.
A voltage produces an electrostatic field. As voltage increases between two distanced points, the field intensifies. You and I were similar in this way. We were two points with voltage charging between us. We somehow created a region stronger than us. Our love flowed like currents. Our love brought us closer. The love between us intensified, much like the way the electrostatic field intensifies. Each kiss and touch made the blood running through my veins turn into electricity. You ignited a fire in me.
Science is intriguing
With such reliable sources
Is it the physics and chemistry?
Or that of an electrostatic force?
Newton's law of motion
Along with kinetic energy
We open our minds and learn
What a pleasant sight to see
Eva Fox Aug 2014
The Earth is purged:
Human ghosts
Once hung in elemental pores
Have been released,
Ascendant from dirt
And salt.

Evening vespers complete
After one-thousand years
Of denial,
They take flight into ether,
Each ascension signified
In violent purple hues,
Clean breaks.
In anticipation of the too-few precious hours in tandem, we divulged our carnal cravings at each others’ hands, but omitted fragments, saving them for some other day, finding them too truthful.

When you hold your body to mine, as you have told me you will, I want a flurry of colored breath, peach and magentas and crimsons slipping translucently from every part of me and wafting in and out and between us like a graceful fog, and not just the force of fingers that have waited too long to touch, but the electrostatic brushes of life’s restlessness falling slowly into their own gravity as we learn to trust the moment.

Our lips are full of nerves and that is why a kiss is so much more than symbolic. I placed my lips to the skin of an orange and I was met with the sensuality of the whole terrain of this world. Intimacy then, is the slow press that reassures humanity – the invitation into a world with no walls – the rush of blood that comes from being completely receptive – that is the kiss I want with your soul.

After all the epochs of lovers, these are all the same words, but they are lanterns bouncing across the plains and sparking anew in the way that the naive are always entranced by the lighter in their hand when they first learn how to light a cigarette, elated and dizzy from the *****. Twinkling.

Sometimes all it takes is a breath and I am light and wind and red paper confetti and the moon and a golden orb that turns all it touches into a shining constancy of what’s called love – and I visit your heart knowing that you can’t tell it’s me, and then I must leave– and I know that I was not in my body, but that it must have kept existing while I was gone because I always wake up in tears, and someone had to cry them.

Conventionality dies between us and there are no titles or promises to speak of. I once found security in labels, only to find that they leave no room for the inevitable growth and weathering of time. So I ask little of you – only that you are always true with me, and that you occasionally put your hand in mine.
Play "Your Hand in Mine" by Explosions In the Sky.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzIK5FaC38w
Inspired by that.
Ria Nagpal Jun 2013
Zeus was the king of gods,
The god of sky and weather,
Law, order and fate.
A regal man,
                      Mature,
Sturdy figure,
                      Dark beard..
Royal sceptre,
                      Eagle..
O, how can I ever forget his passion for his Lightning Bolt,
No one dare touch?
Then again,
                                                                ­                                              I seek..
the power of lightning.
the cackle of thunder.
the massive electrostatic discharge.
                                                      ­    AWAKENS MY SENSES
For years I have longed..
For your beloved bolt
But when I accepted that it could not be mine
And shall stand faithfully by your side..
M Y W A N D E R I N G S ended..fullstop
Another bolt greeted me...
No intention had I of embracing a new love...
For your bolt has been sown to my heart..
Sealed forever..
Inaccesible...
The keys are lost in my crimson pool of despair..
No one shall ever find it.
You have ruined the recesses of my heart.
                                                          ­                                                       But, let me tell you something.
the key was unearthed.
found by true love.
brought a sparkle in my eyes
a glimmer in my sunshine
a power arose that beat                                                   *the daylight out of..

dark and daunting thoughts.
I beamed that 1000-watt smile once again.
Thank you Mr. Lighting Bolt of Hello Poetry
For when you turn yellow, the electrons in me sizzle..Feel the spark, Zeus?
Slithering sparks slicing the darkness in two, it makes me shiver.
Off in the distance is another storm I'll have to weather,
but it's okay I'm a striver.
Because if I catch even a glimpse of that beauty,
I can stand though even the strongest storms.
Zywa Aug 2023
Her curly hair sings!

And it enchants me, it is --


electrostatic.
"The Queen of the Tambourine" (1991, Jane Gardam), § Concerning June 2nd (1990)

Collection "No wonder"
Carlo C Gomez Mar 2023
step right in
where commodity and fiction
are deliberately blurred,

electrostatic dust collector,
after-shower body air-driers,
a spatially disconnected
from the world roll-on wife
complete with a dining table
that sinks into the floor;
don't tell her she's an android;
just don't.

she is captured
and ever ready,
she was a stenographer
but quite unsteady,
her mouth a spark of vowels
when her far off places
are aroused.

repeat this soothing motto — space, place, memory.

outside is scenographic sensation:
lightology. unbreathed air. porcelain skin.

she's the soft electric assurance
of a better life — the life which rests on device alone — a strong, sweet poison which infects the blood.

she is "the light of any home"...
It stood by my uncle’s hatstand for
As long as I can recall,
This ugly wooden carving, leering
Staring out from the wall,
My mother would say, ‘It’s evil,’
That it wasn’t fit to see,
Not for a young impressionable,
By that, she just meant me.

It used to give me the shivers
Every time that I passed its way,
It had a glare of malevolence
I felt, in a mute dismay,
My uncle brought it from Africa
A memento of his time
Seeking out the Azuli tribe
Who lived in a tropic clime.

‘I think his name was Jabuka,’
My uncle said to a friend,
‘One of those baleful spirits that
Was said to torture men,
He’d pluck your eyes from their sockets
If you saw what you shouldn’t see,
And infected men with a virus
That would **** their family.’

For years it sat in abeyance,
Whatever the power it bore,
There was never a hint of impatience
As it sat, and stared by the door,
It wasn’t until my uncle hired
A sultry African maid,
That evil entered the atmosphere
Of the house where I went, and played.

I think it was then that I noticed
There was something strange at large,
My hair rose up as I walked on by,
An electrostatic charge,
It prickled in all my fingers
Ran up the hairs of my arm,
I’d lie if I should deny that day
I felt a sense of alarm.

While little dark skinned Mbutu,
Would bow when she’d dust it off,
Would mumble some words in Zulu
That I could make nothing of,
I saw the fear in her eyes the day
I glanced off it in the hall,
‘Never to touch Jabuka, son
Or him rage is fearful!’

It must have been close on midnight
I heard, when over and done,
My uncle came on Mbutu
Stark naked before ‘the one’,
It must have been some strange African rite
As she danced, she gave weird cries,
But then next day, my uncle lay
And bled from both of his eyes.

My aunt then died of Ebola,
No more than a week from then,
The virus grew, then Mbutu too
Was lost to the world of men,
I sat by my uncle’s bedside
At the hospital by the park,
When he said, ‘Oh Ben, I’m a fool,’ and then,
‘God, but this room is dark!’

He told me to take Jabuka
And carry it out that day,
‘But while you carry that evil thing
Be sure you’re looking away,
There’s petrol out in the potting shed,
Though barely a gallon or two,
Make sure you douse it over the head,
You know what you have to do.’

I watched the flames as they roared and claimed
The wood of that idol’s gaze,
And felt the surge of an evil urge
Attack, in so many ways,
I knew I’d watched what I shouldn’t see
As I felt it rise in my hair,
And lost one eye as it bled bone dry,
It’s lucky I have a spare!

David Lewis Paget
I want
*** and champagne
Love and all its pain,
Under moonlight
And past the sun's brow
Night and day
Through rain and blue
I want
All that is you,
Lava flows
And fires burn
As does the fiery orb
In the sky,
But nigh;
None are ablaze
Like the yearning within
My soul,
What scorched earth
Would bare rock
Like that of my beating heart
For but a gaze
From your eyes,
For but the graze
Of your skin,
Electrostatic ignition
Between my fingertips
And your luscious curving plains,
Like lighting strikes
And storms thunder
In the space separating,
The void that keeps
This earnest frothing
Churning need alive
Another day...

APAD14 - 006 © okpoet
Oskar Erikson Apr 2016
Is it Poetry
to find beauty at the bottom
of a notepad
is it just scribbles & scratches.

Is it Poetry
to glimpse those love lines at your mouth-
how they remind me
of your cracked lipstick smudges.

Is it Poetry
to get lost in the library
to catch a wisp or wave- of your
electrostatic love.

But What IS Poetry.
The cascading colours
swinging, singing and dancing from this monitor.
From you.
                                                        Hello. Poetry.

How're you today?
I like this site, i'm lucky to have found you
Bryce May 2018
I think, therefore I may be.

Maybe I think too much to be free

But the walls close faster than a revolving door
Where no man will etch my name in precious floor

Lost to the inevitable human trace
A dream actuated to another time and place

My eternal atomic informative electrostatic attraction
Bounces my life across the pulsars
in altercation
And ionizes my dreams within
this distant universe,
To return to dream and inert

Inani, Intelli, Invinci,

Omni, Alli, Tectoni,

Read the pages on the stone
Sing the whispers in the growth
The dance of time, the hand of space
the love of design, a perfect trace

Sing sing.
as loud as you can
Do not get lost in the yaup of man.

There is a special soul inside of you.
It's the trees, the bees, the seas and due

Time will come for us to know
The world will task our souls for new growth

And when our time should come to pass
I let myself dance in Dodecahedral sky

And let my atoms shine

For new eyes.
Victoria Lantz Jan 2017
When I’m vibrating at your frequency, the spark that lives behind my belly button jumps between two carbon rods. The electrostatic movement attracts others with similar circuits, but there are so few wired like me. When I do meet a parallel electric force, I can’t help but remove all of my resistors, letting the amperage rise. The resulting voltage causes most to recoil in fear, but occasionally a series connection occurs. The power in that circuit explodes me into you.
Arbin Moreira Oct 2017
Sitting at the turntables,
The sound is the interchangeable,
The volume stirs,
The lyrics become blurry lines,
The channeling of the headphones and speakers,
It’ll be my last dose of the day and night.

The beat is still there,
The 808 rhythms,
My hips begin to move,
My arms begin to raise ,
Alone… I feel my personal rhythm vibrate.
With each and every gaze of the mirror I hate,
I begin to lose myself and encounter the serum of intimacy.

The 808’s come again,
Sucker punching my soul to match the tone,
Ough! My thoughts are deep beneath my bones,
Step by step I feel it coming,
The electrostatic symphony in my soul,
Surging through my breast,
A speaker wave travels through my fingertips.
This language becomes a buzz,
Sweat drips from my hair onto the crystal floor,
I swirl to the turntables and raise the volumes some more,
The 808’s are hitting me harder than then ever before.
I was always told I could kick it to the baseline,
With a body so aroused I feel the momentum making me numb,
Another step and I climaxed at the 808’s mixture,
Another round at the turntables and I hear the 808’s final whispers.
Travis Green Aug 2020
I was becoming obsessed with your rich
coastlines of silky, satisfying love, glorious
visions and inspirations, sparkling moonbeams
magnifying in the midnight mansions of our souls,
such pleasurable kisses and touches synchronizing
together, melting into wild rhymes of flaming
fascinations, vibrating waves escalating
into heightened frequencies, bringing me
into the brightest realms beyond your physical
existence.   You were an endless harmony
strumming on my heart, dividing space
and time, guiding me towards the illumination
of celestial Neptune, effervescent Venus,
jubilant Jupiter, swirling into the rings
of sassy Saturn, wrapped in your rapturous
seabreeze, within your sight and mind,
within your body and soul, your exploding
and rainbow poetry a flowing motion
of romance running deeply in my bloodstream.
I craved the calmness of your wind, your eternal
warmth, how you dazzled me with your
burning bright sparkle, basking in
your slow sensual seas as your handsomeness
echoed in the horizon, dancing delightfully
in my eardrum, speaking to me, humming
to me, how your mesmeric eyes drew me
into your burning flame, into the pure
brightness of your paradise, enmeshed
in your fiery furnace of erupting ecstasy.
I was so lost in your enticing, passionate
planet, my whole world seeping into yours,
becoming more amazed by your powerful
magnetism, your electrostatic majesty,
an authentic quintessence of ultimate
tranquility, breathtakingly savory,
your unblemished arms and hands
so tenderly gratifying, your captivatingly
swelling chests, your hard and amatory abs,
your voluptuous soft thighs, knees, and ankles,
all giving me vividly, heated excitement.
Let science captivate you
Just nourish your mind
Whether if it is physics or chemistry
Be the one who enshrines
The elements of the periodic table
Along with the electrostatic force
Will assist you a great deal
Just stay on course
sandra wyllie Oct 2021
into a million pieces
sides are splintered
jagged reflections
sharp and brittle
the coldest winter
whittles down the sun
walking on broken glass
the man's hands around the bat
see the wreckage of a woman
crashed
weeping ice stalagmites
trapped
reading her the last rites
over spilled perfume
sweeping the pieces up
with an electrostatic broom
you missed a crystal chip
the cherry candy lips
drips droplets of her blood
in the room you made love
He's a rare kind
With rare kindness
So he'd never
In a moment
Of electrostatic tension
Close the gap
Between our lips.
And truthfully,
It has been so long
And I've learned so much
About consent
And ruined friendships
That I don't remember how.
barbrodt May 2019
The hum begins
I take a breath in
And with the air, in comes the sensation
Electrostatic fills my body
I bear back, as the reaching sounds hit me
The riff begins and the sensations hit
A plethora of lifetimes and universes roll past
I can almost look out and grab the sound with my fingers
The feelings in my stomach begin to bubble
The harmony progresses,
and the tones of a guitar takes hold with the substances
The chorus approaches
A feeling from the pit of my gut hits me
My heart is clicking in sync
My breathing becomes primal
Solely a sensation at this point
As the drive from a hi-hat groove floats me into my wall
Back sinking into the give from my introspection
It’s almost *******
The ****** approaches, the falsetto waves reach an apex
I feel the world surround me and I slip into a daze
The walls have taken me in
I’m not in my room anymore
I’m on the next overtone
And as the conclusion approaches
I come down
My view of what the world held
Is gone
I open my eyes
Record scratched
And I again remember
Her

— The End —